


The Loss of Sauce

by yeetbinch



Category: RDR - Fandom, Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2, rdr2 - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Inspired by Red Dead Redemption, M/M, No Spoilers, Sad, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption (2010), Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29652843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeetbinch/pseuds/yeetbinch
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde, Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan, Hosea Matthews & Dutch van der Linde
Kudos: 6





	The Loss of Sauce

It was a long, arduous journey, but finally, finally, they had made it. It wasn’t quite what Dutch had promised, certainly no Tahiti-Mango-Farming-Paradise, but they would gladly take it. They had snuck onto a worn out cargo ship, bribing the captains with the last of their money available. Everyone managed to get out generally unscathed, they’d almost been caught by the Pinkertons, but the boat had left at just the right time.  
When they finally arrived at this mysterious place, Arthur was a little more than shocked.  
“What the hell are these dots and lines? Is this them blind people lettering or some shit? ‘Cause this certainly ain’t no language I’ve seen before.”  
“Arthur,” Dutch sighed fondly, “That is braille you are talking about, that has to be raised lettering so the blind folk can actually feel and decipher it. This is Chinese lettering, Arthur! We are in China, land of the hentai!”  
“Actually,” A raspy voice objected, belonging to no other than John, “I’m pretty sure that’s Jap-”  
“Shut it, Marston.” Arthur growled dangerously.  
“Settle down, sons! We need to let loose and celebrate for a bit! Follow me and keep close, I don’t need any of you running off.”  
They walked around aimlessly, Dutch supposedly knowing where to go and reminding them all to “have a little faith” in him. Finally, after hours of walking, they stumbled upon a disgustingly plain corner shop, with half naked posters of women hanging out front.  
“Dutch, after all this time wanderin’ you took us here? I thought we was gonna get some grub, maybe a drink or two and head in? I don’t think I need to remind you that this journey of ours hasn’t exactly been a pleasure cruise.”  
“Arthur, quit your whining, son. Once you step foot into this place, you’ll understand.”  
“I-I don’t think Jack should go into this store..” Abigail gently pushed Jack behind her, “I think I’ll wait out here…”  
“Nonsense! The hentai shop is for all ages, the boy could use some fun!” Dutch chortled gleefully.  
Abigail looked to John with a concerned look, hoping he would back her up. He simply shrugged carelessly.  
The gang all filtered in the store one by one, browsing the various hentais displayed.  
“Hey, uh, where’s Arthur?” Lenny started nervously.  
“Oh, blue balls? I saw him sneak off before we entered. Don’t you pay him any mind, Dutch. The big boy is fine. Besides, I heard him say he thinks traps are gay, he just doesn’t get the intricacies of hentai.” Micah sneered.  
Dutch couldn’t help but to feel a little concerned about where his son went off to, but he brushed it off and continued looking at the finest hentai this country had to offer. He couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste, after all. He had reached the trap section of the store and the air rushed out of his lungs. Traps, traps everywhere. It was a dream come true. He looked through about three of the hentai booklets before he was overcome by such a strong force of lust.  
“You ok there, boss? You’re lookin’ a little… stiff.”  
“I reckon these traps are making me feel some sort of way… I need to take a breather. Excuse me, fellers.”  
Dutch headed to the toilets, a cloud of want over his head. He splashed his face with cold water, hoping to rid himself of this weird trance, but it did the opposite. His brain conjured up images of Arthur, dancing around in his fem cat-boy outfit he’d always dreamed of him wearing. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. He couldn’t stop cumming. It only accelerated more and more until he was no longer in the janky bathroom of the hentai shop, but in the sky, propelled by cum. Hosea’s worried face came into his field of vision and soon got smaller and smaller until he realized he was being lifted higher into the sky. The sound barrier was no longer, as Dutch continued to fly into the sky at alarming speeds. The burning of his gonads and the tearing of his lungs did nothing to stop the launching of his body into the end of the atmosphere, where he would reside for all eternity.  
Meanwhile, Arthur had successfully slipped away from the hentai shop, unnoticed. He had no interest in those bizarre, porn-esque, “trap” booklets Dutch seemed to love so much. Arthur headed over to a nearby strip club, changed into his emergency latex booty shorts and pink, fluffy cat ears before striding over to the stage, gripping the pole and dancing like one of those anime girls in Dutch’s prized hentai. At the end of the day, Arthur had made almost $5000 in tips from his dancing. He was about to return to the stage for his second shift, until he heard a familiar voice call out to him.  
“Arthur, Arthur!”  
“Hosea?” Arthur whispered in disbelief, “What in God’s name are YOU doing here in all places?”  
“Arthur, that doesn’t matter right now, it’s, well, Dutch is gone.”  
“Gone? The hell‘re you talkin’ about?”  
As Hosea explained the situation to Arthur, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness in his chest, not only for him, but for Hosea as well. Dutch was his mentor, his friend, maybe.. something more.. But for Hosea to have told Dutch, all these years that hentai would be his downfall and for Hosea to be right, he sympathizes with him greatly.  
“Here, uh-” Arthur cleared his throat, hoping Hosea wouldn’t notice his misty eyes as he handed the entirety of his tip, “We’ll make a ceremony, a real good one, too. A proper send off.” He joked.  
“Arthur, you can’t-”  
“Please, Hosea.” His voice cracked.  
Hosea looked downwards for a long while, then nodded slowly.  
The funeral was a joyous affair for a sad occasion. Chinese strippers surrounded the area. The atmosphere was grim, but everyone tried to enjoy themselves anyways.  
Hosea spotted Arthur and walked up to him, putting his hand on his tense shoulder.  
“Arthur, son, I hate to ask you this, but you know Dutch would have wanted this. Go up there in your maid dress, son. Give him one last show.”  
“Hosea, in front of the gang? I’m feelin’ a bit shy..”  
“Arthur, please.”  
The strained voice of Hosea tugged on Arthur’s already wounded heart strings, and so he set off to change and give one last ode to Dutch.  
After the beautiful performance was over, Arthur set out for Hosea, he found the elder sitting on the balcony of the funeral center. When he heard footsteps, he looked away from the view, but as soon as he saw it was Arthur, he turned back.  
“I reckon it’s raining.” Hosea remarked.  
“It don’t look like it to me,” Arthur offered.  
A silver trail of tears travelled down Hosea’s cheek.  
“No,” he uttered, “It’s definitely raining.”


End file.
